


Shrouded in Darkness and Light

by fyrshi (ChiaRoseKuro)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, F/M, Other: See Story Notes, SnK 2014 Big Bang - Drabble Challenge, and by drabble I mean 100-1500 words, in my defense this is a revamp/repost/whatever you want to call it, wow am I late as fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:16:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaRoseKuro/pseuds/fyrshi
Summary: They had always been two sides to a coin, strangers and enemies and friends and everything else in between. It was hard to put a label on what they were, in a world ravaged by everything and where labels were a luxury reserved for another realm.And yet.100 AruAni drabbles, exploring the dynamics of two people more similar and dissimilar than anyone might realize.





	1. Escapism

**Author's Note:**

> For those who have a better memory than I do, you may remember that this particular drabble collection was initially posted up sometime in the middle of June, 2014. You may also notice that the person posting it is still going by the name they posted it under, but has a different central pseud this time around; this is because of Circumstances and has no bearing on the drabbles. What you _do_ need to know, if you read the original collection, is that none of the originals will be posted here (and if they are, they'll be heavily edited to conform with my current writing style). I may consider posting up the old ones for memory's sake, but that will likely not happen.
> 
> Because each is a drabble and can be read as a stand-alone piece (unless stated otherwise), all relevant notes pertaining to them will be contained within each chapter note. As such, this work will remain unrated to reflect the diverse rating range I expect to cycle through before I'm done with this collection. However, please note that **manga and anime spoilers apply** ; specifically, up to and including Chapter 90 of the manga (mostly because I don't know what to make of anything past it, at the current moment in time) and Season 2 of the anime. If you haven't been keeping up with the manga/anime, or chose not to read/watch it for whatever reason, it might be in your best interest to skip over any and all drabbles that may contain spoilers up to whatever point you've reached. Also, as per the original challenge's guidelines, all will be set in the canon!verse but may be retakes on certain scenes, canon divergences in the odd instance where I want to manipulate whatever's happened, or my take on 'deleted scenes' in between chapters/episodes.
> 
> It might also be worthwhile noting that this is a challenge in just about every sense of the word, which is to say I actually don't have any feelings for AruAni as a ship and this is very much an experiment as it is a creative outlet. If you don't like what I might do as an ambivalent shipper, feel free to leave now before you disappoint yourself. Otherwise, have fun reading whatever I have to offer!
> 
> The original challenge can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/SNKBigBang2014DrabbleCollections), whilst the prompts used can be found [here](http://audreymgonzalez.com/2011/master-list-of-prompts/).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is changing and moving on, but only they remain constant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoilers:** Yes (up to and including chapter 90 of the manga)  
>  **Genre(s):** Introspective; Hurt/Comfort (?)  
>  **Prompt #:** 243 (Unnatural)
> 
>  **Additional Warnings/Notes:** N/A

* * *

 

The lone sentry waves him in with the languid air of the unobservant; Armin can’t blame him, not when most people are often caught dozing when they’re given this particular post, but knowing this only makes it harder for him to nod in response. There’s only newbies assigned to here anyway, and precious few are around when the Survey Corps is always in demand of fresh blood. It’s likely that he won’t see this face here again (or anywhere else, but he quashes that before it shows on his face).

At first, when Armin had come here, the creaking stairs had almost given him a heart attack. After all, what if someone heard him and realized he had no permission being there in the first place? What if they thought he was going mad or, worse, sympathised with the enemy by doing this? His heart had beat so loudly in his ears that it almost drowned out all the creaking, making him all the more unaware of his sweating brow and shaking knees and chattering teeth.

Now, it’s almost like a stroll. He takes it so regularly that he could almost call it that, really.

For all that Armin’s changed in the past year, changed friends and squadrons and responsibilities and regrets, the room is still the same. There is still a faint urge to sneeze whenever his steps raise puffs of dust and make a face at the stench of mothballs and mould. There are still faint prints where he trod last, days or weeks prior (time blends into one another these days; it’s hard to tell whether he forewent lunch yesterday or three days ago, let alone map his visits with any certainty), and there are still none beside his own.

Armin can’t blame anyone for neglecting the room, he really can’t. Not even Levi, with his fixation on cleaning, has bothered to step foot in here with his trusty face mask and bucket of cleaning products.

Had his heart not felt what it did, perhaps Armin would be neglecting this room, too.

The crystal situated right in the middle of the room still gleams as brightly as it did months or years ago, when a few clever contraptions had managed to shift it downstairs. Armin dips the clean cloth he brought in a bucket of water he also brought, wringing it out and wiping each face with meticulous care. He likes to think that she can feel it inside, how there is still someone in the world who cares about what she has become.

It’s a wishful delusion, he knows, but that is all he has left. Even those who suspect (or know, or gossip; he wouldn’t put it past a good number of them to do either or both) don’t bother dissuading him, though he catches glances every now and again.

Her eyes are still closed, her mouth still sealed shut, but Armin gingerly stands before her and talks like he used to, with expressive hands and expressive eyes. What would she have done if she had been in Shiganshina, fighting alongside and against the people she’d trained with? How would she have felt seeing what he had seen, knowing that there were only a handful of Survey Corps members left but that her comrades' efforts to keep the truth hidden had failed?

Marleyan, Eldian. Nations ravaged by war and distrust and memories that had left Eren pessimistic, confirmed theories that had only made Armin’s heart stutter in his chest. A Paradis that was no paradise, a world of freedom so bleak that it was confining.

If everyone had suspected earlier, if she had told them before she froze herself…

“If only,” Armin whispers to Annie’s closed, peaceful face, and blinks away the tears slipping from his eyes.

When Armin creeps out the door, face freshly dried and rudimentary cleaning supplies in hand, the lone sentry is snoring lightly at his post. He offers the man a wry smile and quietly shuts the door behind himself, because what else can he do?

The Survey Corps had reached the limit of the world, completing the mission it had been assigned to form. What need was there for dreamers who woke from their dreams; what use for knowledge that could not be applied in any way?

 _If only,_ Armin thinks, gaze lingering on the door behind him, and goes back to life outside.

Immersed in the crystal, unaware of the world she had left behind, Annie sleeps on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about where this takes place, it's sometime after the Survey Corps see the sea for the first time, at the end of Chapter 90. Think about it as the blank interim between the events of Chapter 90 and Chapter 91, if you will. As for my angle on 'Unnatural'... well, the main focus was Annie's stasis in her crystal. You'll simply have to guess if I meant anything extra by the prompt, I suppose.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	2. Great Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all labels were made to fit forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** Teen and Up Audiences (mild language)  
>  **Spoilers:** ? (up to and including chapter 18 of the manga / episode 13 of season one)  
>  **Genre(s):** Introspective; Friendship  
>  **Prompt #:** 67 (Small victories)
> 
>  **Additional Warnings/Notes:** By 'mild language', I mean 'one reference to dicks', so...

* * *

 

Annie’s heard whispers of what Shadis thinks about them all; it’s hard not to when everyone lives in such close proximity to one another. In between useless knowledge on Sasha’s sleeping patterns (she always, _always_ dreams of food, a fact that she knows because Sasha _sleep-talks_ ) and Mina’s insistence on getting first shower (something to do with hygiene and ‘I went late _one_ time and the hot water ran out halfway through!’) is the cold truth of her unsuitability as part of the squad. The best cutting attack of anyone else in the 104th, Shadis had said, but an aversion to solidarity and camaraderie. In other words, she was perfect and lonely.

Perfect loneliness, lonely perfection. It’s hard not to wonder what the difference is between them, when Annie’s alone (perfectly alone?) and her failures line up before her, one by one.

She knows that Mikasa is better in being neither, that she has somehow managed to balance her ruthless talent with a single-minded devotion to protecting those closest to her, but is that what makes her first in the 104th? And what about Reiner, with his strength and will and inspiration for trust; what makes him second only to Mikasa, what makes him better than _her_? Knowing that she has taken him down in close combat classes is no comfort to knowing that she is still seen as inferior, worse, _other_.

Knowing all that does not make the empty space around her any less empty.

Free time… what a strange concept that is. Annie crosses her arms behind her back as she snuggles further into the grass, staring blindly up at the clear skies above. Off in the distance, she can hear the faint strains of bickering; Jean and Eren, most likely, having a dick-measuring contest of some sort. The crude and very literal image which comes to mind is enough to make her snort.

She can picture it now, the scenario taking place around the childish anger. Eren calls Jean ‘horseface’ enough that everyone’s picked up on it by now, but that doesn’t make the nickname any less annoying (or untrue). There’ll be the barely-restrained irritation, the trembling in one clenched fist as Jean thinks about smashing Eren in his smug, smiling face but doesn’t act on it because Mikasa’s there. There’ll be someone holding them back without ever laying a finger on them; Christa with her pretty words or Armin with his frantic but logical pleas. There’ll be interest, amusement, annoyance. There’ll be—

“It’s a nice day today,” a soft voice utters, and Annie’s thoughts shatter into a thousand fragments.

There’s still the faint strains of bickering drifting along the wind, but Armin’s seated a few feet from her and he’s got a thick book in hand. It’s tempting to stare at him or even move away to leave him in peace (he likely needs all he can get, given that his best friend fights as often as he breathes), but Annie finds herself doing neither when he silently flips to a page. It’s hard _not_ to be aware of the new presence near her, harder still not to focus on every shift, every blink and every breath, but…

“It’s a nice day today,” Annie finds herself repeating, and Armin only turns to smile at her before he goes back to his book.

This is nothing like the tense looks she shares with Mikasa whenever they’re close to one another, especially after Annie’s pounded Eren into the dirt (because his close-combat skills, though better than average, will never be better than hers). This is nothing like the tense silence she shares when Bertholdt comes over on some trumped-up excuse (or, worse, when there is no excuse at all) and they stand together, too close for comfort but too far for subtlety. This is nothing like the tenseness that she gets whenever anyone comes within arm’s length, staring at her or brushing past her or doing _something_ to her.

This is not tense, no looks and no silence and no overwhelming paranoia. This is just Armin seated a respectable distance away with a book, a warm smile and nothing else.

Is it _really_ nothing else, though? Annie has heard things about Armin, too; how Shadis doesn’t count him amongst the top ten, how he’s almost failing the physical components (and has, in some instances, actually _managed_ to fail them) but ultimately, how they keep him for his intellect. Is this all a ploy to get closer to her, to let down her guard and test her in some unfathomable way?

Armin does and says nothing when Annie tenses, muscles bunching beneath her head as her eyes dart from the skies to his bowl-cut hair. There is only an even breath, one in and one out, and another flip of the page.

“Have you ever heard of manmade things that fly through the air?” Armin asks, just as Annie’s about to loosen her muscles and make a valiant attempt at nonchalance.

“No,” she replies curtly, muscles tensing immediately.

“It’s really incredible!” There’s a fire in Armin’s eyes as he turns to Annie, finally bestowing her with something longer than a glance, and she can’t help the way her breath hitches in response. How can a body so fragile and a voice so soft be filled with such ferocity, such ardour?

Despite her best intentions, Annie watches Armin as he gesticulates. Images so vivid are painted by his words that she almost sees them whenever she blinks (or, more like, whenever she _dares_ to blink). This is not expectations and hidden meanings and laden responsibilities, not like what she was once accustomed to as a child.

This is…

“Arlert, Leonhart, stop gossiping and start marching!”

A shadow falls over Annie as she scrambles to her feet and salutes to Shadis before doing just that. There’s a paleness to Armin’s features when he rises to do the same but when their instructor strides away, heavy and solemn, he shoots a grin at her and bends to pick his book up.

“Thank you for listening to me,” Armin says, like Annie was the one who did him a favour.

The smile that tugs at her mouth seems strange and unnatural, but she still manages to reply, “No, I should be thanking _you_.”

And as Annie walks away, leaving Armin to blink slowly and gape a little in response, the smile lingers on her lips for longer than it should.

(in that moment, being neither perfectly lonely or lonely in her perfection, she feels)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this as a 'deleted scene' from their trainee years, if you will; the only reason this references anything post-training is my reliance on Shadis' personal assessment of the trainees. The original title I had for this drabble was 'Packmate' but, well, the theme changed midway through writing and it semi-consciously referenced a Dickens book I've never read, instead. As for the prompt, I suppose it manifests in Annie's break from Shadis' assessment of her... but otherwise, that's it.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	3. Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the world was painted in black and white, what colour would honesty be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoilers:** Yes (up to and including chapter 77 of the manga)  
>  **Genre(s):** Introspective; Angst  
>  **Prompt #:** 306 (I was great)
> 
>  **Additional Warnings/Notes:** There may be spoilers for chapter 90 of the manga, if you squint

* * *

 

Sometimes, Annie dreams of a place she once called home, people she once deemed friends and a man she once knew as her father. The memories aren’t bad ones but nor are they pleasant, either; most times, she wakes with something like cotton in her mouth and dryness in her eyes, phantom sensations throughout her body and voices ringing in her ears. Years and years of training, fighting until she couldn’t move a muscle without it screaming in pain… and then that final moment, when he’d hugged her and let her go.

What is her father doing now? Perhaps they’ll give him an honorary title and let him live the rest of his days in luxury; she hopes he enjoys it for her sake as well, enjoys it like she never enjoyed her lessons and adolescence. What are the children in her village like… were they telling tales of her bravery, perhaps? Little tongues all wagging with the same old tune, saying ‘look at Annie standing up for what’s good; look at her protecting our village from evil.’

Good and evil, evil and good. What’s the point of beating around the bush and talking in tongues and pretty, pretty words?

_Useful to one and useless to the other, is what it is._

“You may be useful to some people, but at the same time a bad person to others,” he says with his earnest eyes and earnest voice. “If you don’t help us now… to me, you’ll be a bad person.”

It’s that simple, at the end of the day; useful to one and useless to the other, commodifying people by their sum worth for their own benefit. Was that how they rationalized things when they told her she was going to be her country’s saviour, bringing back the darkest evil from whence it was lost?

Such earnest eyes, such an open face. Annie glances to one side and thinks, _oh Armin, is that really what you think?_

And where did it all start, anyway? When she almost made off with Eren after killing all of Levi’s squad? When she killed those two Titans in the middle of the night? What about when she was cataloguing corpses, crying for the dead while Reiner and Bertholdt watched on? Or when she’d stripped Marco of his gear and watched him get devoured? And how about the time she smiled and decided she’d teach Eren the way to fight back against her?

When, where, what, how, why; does it matter anymore? His face had been so uncertain and sorrowful when he thought she would walk away and his face had been so open and honest when he thought he saw a glimmer of hope. _As if I could refuse you_ , had been the thought that crossed her mind first. _How can I when you’ve got me figured out in that pretty little head of yours?_

If self-interest was the devil then she would be drowning in damnation. If normal was being callous then she was the most boring person in the walls. Everyone had joined the Survey Corps and Annie had picked the Military Police not to fulfil her duty, but to live her life in luxury; away from the need to kill more people, away from the temptation of doing what was wrong by her new comrades to save her old ones. Yet here she was, staring into Armin’s round eyes.

Good and evil, evil and good. Which was right and which was wrong?

“Do I really look like such a good person to you?” Annie had asked, and now…

Her father had told her to treat the world as her enemy and only believe in him, who was on her side, and yet here she was. For all that Armin is earnest and kind, she can still see the noose he’s trying to tighten around her neck. If she accepted, she’d be led like a lamb to the slaughter.

And it would be painful; of course it would be. They would torture her until she’d wished they killed her while her father, back at home, would think she was doing her duty to save them from everyone else. These people didn’t know how to contain titans yet but what did that matter, in the grand scheme of things? They would get what they wanted and then what would _she_ be left with?

Good and evil, evil and good.

“Alright,” Annie finally says, ignoring the way Armin’s mouth flattens out grimly to hide another expression. “I’ll help.”

  
In the end, she helps nobody except herself, but what else is new in life?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Liar, liar, pants on fire._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this a foray into Annie's mind during the events occurring in Chapter 31/Episode 23; specifically, before Annie agrees to follow Armin into what will become her final (?) transformation into her Titan form. It's always struck me as strange that Annie would slip her ring onto her finger after agreeing to escort Armin- and, yes, there's always the thought that she could intercept Eren before he escapes, but I chose to interpret it as Annie suspecting that something was up. In any case, the prompt played on the idea of 'great' (great as in 'very good' or great as in 'mighty') so hopefully that shone through.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	4. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hardest thing about letting go was that you never knew what would catch you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoilers:** ? (up to and including chapter 21 of the manga / episode 16 of season 1)  
>  **Genre(s):** Angst to Fluff  
>  **Prompt #:** 110 (New wings)
> 
>  **Additional Warnings/Notes:** If you don't like full-on canon divergences, you may want to skip everything after the first break

* * *

 

There’s something about Annie that’s hard for Armin to capture, words like ‘blue’ and ‘glacial but occasionally fiery’ which don’t quite do her eyes justice. They’re lidded right now, sleepy gaze blurrily focused on the stars above, and he finds his breath catching at how peaceful she looks.

Gone is the careful distance, the cold animosity Annie projects as easily as she breathes. In moments like these, where most of the trainees are turning in for an early night or are busy mucking around with each other, there are no prying eyes. There is nobody to come between their hushed exchanges, nobody to cut short the stolen moments when they’re not training to be hardened soldiers, another warm body to throw before the Titans.

“Armin,” Annie murmurs, so softly that he almost misses it, “where are you planning to go?”

He sits up to look at her better, eyes widening imperceptibly as he stares. “You mean… when we’re done at the end of the year? When we’ve got to choose our divisions and—”

“Yeah,” Annie replies.

Her gaze shifts from the sky, then. Armin blinks as Annie’s eyes lock with his, the pale blue glowing a little from the dim light above, and his throat almost constricts too hard when he swallows next. He already knows where she wants to go; it’s no secret that Annie’s one of the best in their corps (maybe even one of the best in _all_ the corps) and even less of one that she wants to capitalize on her rank.

“You know I’ll never make the top ten,” Armin says in lieu of anything else, and hopes that it’s dark enough to hide the miserable flush suffusing his cheeks.

When he dares to look at her again, there’s something fierce and cold lurking in Annie’s eyes.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Armin almost falls back in shock when Annie props herself up on her elbows and gets into a sitting position, looming above him with her lips pressed thin. “I asked where _you_ wanted to go.”

“But you…” Fidgeting with his hands, Armin stares up at the sky and quietly asks, “Don’t you want to join the Military Police?”

 _And then what will become of us?_ Armin thinks, but barely prevents himself from saying aloud. _I want to be with you, but how can that happen when I can’t possibly follow you?_

“Pretend I’m not a factor for a moment,” Annie flatly utters, staring steadily at him despite Armin’s best efforts to ignore her. “If you just thought about your own priorities, your own desires, where would you go?”

It’s the most words Annie’s ever strung together and Armin’s almost tempted to look at her again; almost, because he doesn’t want to know what expression she’s making right now. His eyes rake the sky for the stars he’s read about in books as he mulls over the question instead, and his mind drifts to his grandfather. Settles on Eren and Mikasa, who are probably either in bed or making small talk with someone else, and…

“The Survey Corps,” Armin whispers, unable to prevent the way he shrinks in on himself. “I… I want to see what’s out there. I want to know what we’re missing when we’re all in here.”

In the corner of one eye, Armin sees Annie nod slowly, though whether it’s for herself or for him is something he doesn’t know (and will, most likely, never find out). For a moment, he’s tempted to tear his gaze from the sky and look at her properly, gauge the expression on her face and the light in her eyes, but then she sighs and gets to her feet.

“I see,” is all she says, and then she walks away without a backward glance.

Armin watches her (of course he does, now that she’s not looking) but…

When he looks up at the sky again, all he sees is black. Whatever tinges of dark blue Armin could see before are swallowed up in the hollow in the middle of his chest, pushed back to the depths of his cold, cold mind.  
 

 

The flood of people who leave after the Commander’s speech almost makes Armin want to leave, too.

It starts as a trickle, with one or two people at the back that he doesn’t see, only hears in the distance. By the time Armin hears someone chastising the Commander, they’re leaving the area in their dozens, streaming out with disgust on their faces and curses under their breaths. He sees Jean’s eyes slide shut as his face pales, Sasha and Connie trembling and crying where they stand. He feels Mikasa look around, too, even though he knows that her feet will never willingly lead her away from Eren.

For a moment, he’s tempted to look at the parting faces for someone familiar. For a stupid, hopeful moment, he wonders if he’ll see Annie smile at him before she leaves, tearing apart the fragile bond they’d shared back at Trost, but—

The sounds of the future Military Police and Garrison soldiers fade, Sasha hiccups out her sobs and the Commander asks, “So, will you be able to go die if you’re told to?”

And then, amongst those left, Annie calmly replies, “We do not want to die, sir.”

There’s no air in Armin’s lungs, no thoughts in Armin’s head. Even though he desperately wants to turn around and see things for himself, confirm what he heard with his own eyes, the Commander goes through the motions before ending with, “The 104th Scouting Legion salutes to all 22 of you.”  
 

 

When they’re done offering their hearts to a military branch they will likely not live in for long, Armin finally, _finally_ , turns around. Everyone brushes past him, talking in hushed whispers about how they’re part of the Survey Corps now and _did you hear about the survival rate, if Smith’s right half of us will be dead by next month_ , but all he has eyes and ears for is the person standing right behind him.

“I guess,” Annie says, in lieu of anything else, “I wanted to be there when you discovered your dream.”

If that wasn’t the perfect moment to laugh and cry, then Armin didn’t know _when_ it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to those of you who remembered the exact number of trainees who joined the Scouting Legion, because I certainly didn't. The only thing I really remembered was everyone's reactions to staying put and joining (or, in Annie's case, leaving to join the Military Police instead), but I just thought it'd be interesting if she _didn't_ end up leaving, which basically led to this drabble when I chucked in some AruAni feels. For those of you who spotted the dual reference to the prompt, you get a cookie and a pat on the back; it's probably tiring for me to waffle on about how I incorporated the prompt, so from now on you get to guess instead!
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	5. The Sound of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because actions always spoke louder than words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audience  
>  **Spoiler(s):** No  
>  **Genre(s):** Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Introspective  
>  **Prompt #:** 421 (The treasures of darkness)
> 
>  **Additional Warnings/Notes:** N/A

* * *

 

When Armin makes to sit down, stiff-limbed and ginger in his movements, Annie tilts her head up to stare at his pained expression. It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking, not when she hardly shows anything as easily as Eren does and _especially_ not when he can barely make out where her fringe ends and her face begins, but the brush of her fingertips against his arm is soothing enough. He doesn’t know if she sees the grateful smile he gives her, but it’s alright.

At the very least, it means nobody else can see them, either.

Except… Armin remembers a time when he played hide-and-seek with Eren and Mikasa, back before Shiganshina was breached and their home was no more. Remembers the ease with which his friends found him whenever he burrowed behind some crates, tucked himself deep into an alleyway or hid inside barrels.

“You’re too pale,” was what Eren had said, when Armin had been found within a minute and he’d sulked for five more. “Your skin’s even paler than Mikasa’s, and your hair’s a dead giveaway too.”

Is that what he looks like to other people, though? Do they see a pale ghost unable to blend in, a boy turned soft by years of complacency? Armin pokes at a bruise and winces when it throbs in response, and it’s only then that he realizes Annie’s been talking to him for the past three minutes.

“So, what do you think?” Annie asks quietly, eyes trained on the cloud-swathed sky, and it’s hard for Armin to not reply with a biting _do you really want to know?_

Diplomatic answers are the safest, though, and so Armin finds himself shrugging and deferring with a soft, “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

For a moment, Annie stares at him, and then…

 _Her lips are chapped,_ he thinks stupidly, and feels the feathery brush of eyelashes against his cheeks. Annie’s eyes slide shut as she continues to kiss him, shaping her lips to slot against his a little better, and Armin’s brain short-circuits and splutters to a halt. When she draws back with a question in her eyes and a faint dusting of something darker on her cheeks, he’s still staring right at her.

“Was that…” Her hand finds his and grips it tightly. “Was it not good enough?”

From a distance, Armin hears himself say, “I think my brain stopped working,” and feels Annie’s quiet laughter through their hands.

She brushes her fingertips against his lips, then. Untucks the bottom from his gnawing teeth (and since when was Armin biting down on it?) and soothes the bite with kitten licks, pressing butterfly kisses to it with each soft swipe. He chases after her, the first few times, but all she does is laugh a little more and tuck wayward strands of his hair behind his ears.

“Thank you,” Armin sighs, and rests his forehead against her own.

Maybe it’s bad that they can’t see further than each other’s faces and that their fingers, pale as they are, blend perfectly into the shadows around them. Maybe he’ll regret not seeing the way Annie’s eyes crinkle as she presses into him, smiling in the unguarded way he’s only seen a handful of times. Maybe someone will find them out of their beds during curfew and Shadis makes them clean the latrines for the rest of the week, but now…

Perhaps it’s best that nobody can see Armin’s heart leaping out of his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that this was the perfect opportunity to insert smut... but then I couldn't move past the kissing without making myself feel awkward, so all that ended up happening was just kisses in the dark. Then there was meant to be something darker included into this, after I confirmed that I was chickening out of the Mature/Explicit rating, but there's so few opportunities for fluff that I just... left it as is. Anyhow, the prompt was incorporated in a rather obvious manner, so hopefully everyone spotted it. If not, don't worry; I probably just missed the mark by loads.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	6. One For All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, real life can be just a little stranger than fiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoiler(s):** Yes (up to and including chapter 89 of the manga)  
>  **Genre(s):** ? (it's more of an augmented character study than anything else)  
>  **Prompt #:** 378 (The king's men)
> 
>  **Additional Warnings/Notes:** Canon divergences and slight alterations to characters are present, so read at your own risk

* * *

 

Annie comes awake—not with a heaving gasp, not with a loud curse, but with a soft flutter of her lashes. There’s a moment when she glances dazedly around, eyes roving to seek something that only she can fathom, but then the moment passes and her pupils contract as they finally go into focus. It’s not by much, though; the darkness is no figment of her imagination, and nor is the ghostly-white figure standing before her.

When the ghostly-white figure speaks, though, Annie can’t help wondering if she’s awake at all.

“Hurry up,” they hiss; it’s impossible to tell who they are, given that Annie can only see enough to distinguish the human from the shadows of wherever she is. “You’ve got to get out of here before someone notices.”

“And where,” she retorts, tongue fuzzy and swollen in her mouth, “is _here_?”

“I _knew_ I should’ve freed you sooner,” they grumble, but slender fingers circle her wrists gently and Annie steps onto a cold and dusty surface. In the time it takes for her to adjust to the smooth but alien surface beneath her feet, they sigh, “Okay, so how much do you remember?”

“I was…” A pregnant pause, and then, “How do I know I can trust you?”

A longer pause lingers, this time, before Annie’s unknown companion groans, “Annie, you were in a crystal, weren’t you? Now how do you think I got you out of there?”

 _Well then,_ Annie thinks, and hopes the darkness hides her embarrassed flush when she mutters, “Up to the point where Eren’s titan form ripped me out of my titan shell.”

“Good, so you remember everything you’re supposed to.”

It’s not until Annie sees faint wisps of blond hair poking her eyes that she realizes there’s light, but the stone that stubs her toe comes as a surprise to her. Before she can bend down and rub at it, though, the fingers still encircling her wrists tug harder, sending her stumbling up a few steps and eliciting a muffled hiss from her lips.

“You’ll have time to recuperate later,” her companion continues, either unaware or unheeding of her discomfort, “but for now, we need to hide you in one of the supply wagons. As soon as we ride out, you _have_ to stay silent, okay? We can’t lose our element of surprise or else capturing Eren will be all the more difficult for it.”

Rather than dwell over the dull throb in her big toe or mull over their words, though, Annie mutters, “You’re not Bertholdt.”

In retrospect, it’s a bit of a dumb thing to say when she should’ve been able to distinguish Bertholdt’s from anyone else’s by length alone; hell, even Reiner was pretty distinguishable, if one paid attention to the strength of his grip. This is a hand that is neither long nor strong, though. This is a hand that Annie remembers holding on multiple occasions, when she had thought that fate would never let them go any further, and…

Armin quirks a brow at her and replies, “No, I suppose I’m not.”

“Then why…” Drawing her arm back from Armin’s loose grip, Annie cradles it to her stomach and asks, “Aren’t you meant to be Eren’s best friend?”

For a moment, Armin stares politely back at her, and then a rueful smile crosses his face.

“Yes, I suppose I should be,” Armin starts, his quiet laugh a shadow of the timidity Annie had once associated with him, “just like how I should be the voice of reason while I cower behind Mikasa’s back and the strategist who should be making plans to weed out the traitors against humanity. Should I be here, helping the traitor whose capture I personally orchestrated? Shouldn’t I be with Eren, the boy whose father was a known Eldian rebel and whose Titan is the co-ordinate?

“Yes, I suppose I should be,” Armin iterates, smiling at the way Annie’s eyes widen at his questions, “but what sort of infiltrator would I be if I didn’t _act_ , once in a while?”

“But Zeke had told us you defected,” Annie whispers, staggering down a step and slumping against the nearest wall. “The Marleyans… they said we only had seven of the nine founding titans left.”

“And it never occurred to you that the boy they sent in as their guinea pig would survive?” This time, the laughter slipping out of Armin’s lips is so bitter that Annie finds herself shrinking back when he glares at her. “Have you never gone through the same training every other good little Eldian goes through, or did they go soft on you back in your village?”

“You don’t,” Annie retorts, and chokes on the lump in her throat. “Then why would you give everything up again?”

“Again?” Armin murmurs softly, settling back into his demure shell. Or, at least, until he smiles wryly and says, “What makes you think I have anything to give up?”

When Armin extends a hand to her, Annie finds herself staring at its edges and curves. Its presence on her wrist is still a strong memory and her skin is still tingling from the residual warmth, but she can’t seem to move her hand forward. It’s just…

This was the hand of someone who had made her lose all trust in herself and realize that everything she did had gone to waste. This was the hand of someone who had caressed her hair and whispered sweet nothings into her ears, but was just as capable of sacrificing her for a cause he didn’t even believe in.

How could she trust someone like this with keeping her safe? How could she really believe that Armin wasn’t just making it all up on the spot?

“You can’t,” Armin replies, and Annie flushes a little when he shrugs and reaches for her hand. “But you don’t have anyone else to trust, do you?

“And for what it’s worth, I’ve only got a year left to live, anyway,” Armin casually utters, securing her hand in his own and turning back to the stairs. “I don’t know about you, but my parents died because of everyone here… and when I die, I want to be beside them, not stuck on the island that led to their deaths.”

Like this, with the light spilling over his hair and pouring down around him, Annie can’t help but gaze at Armin as he looks to her and smiles, small and sad and all too familiar in its sincerity. Like this, it’s easy to squeeze his hand back and say, “Then let’s go home.”

“Let’s,” Armin echoes agreeably, and escorts her back outside.  
  


 

Under the cover of the Colossal Titan’s steam and the Armoured Titan’s rampage, Armin and Annie carefully hack off Eren’s limbs and secure his comatose body on the cart they stole from the Survey Corps. It’s nothing special and it might not even hold until they get back home, but…

“It’s done,” Armin breathes, and Annie can’t help the smile that blooms on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was difficult to pin down how far I needed to tag for spoilers, given that I drew quite liberally from the memories revealed in Eren's (or, more like, Grisha's) flashbacks, but hopefully I tagged it right. For those of you who didn't quite cotton on, the one thing I changed in this canon divergence is that Armin was a titan shifter, he came to Paradis before the canon titan trio and this is set sometime after Zeke turns Connie's village into titans, but before the Shiganshina trio ride out to help the soldiers at Utgard Castle. This was threatening to snowball into a non-drabble-length idea, though, so I had to cut it down and keep it simple... but I might return to it later. It's something I'm pretty interested in, considering that Armin's parents are never really mentioned and my brain thought this up as a possible non-canon solution.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	7. Survivor Type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For every action, there will always be an equal and opposite reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoilers:** Yes (up to and including chapter 89 of the manga)  
>  **Genre(s):** ? (it's more of a character study with light hints of angst than anything else)  
>  **Prompt #:** 431 (Onward)
> 
>  **Additional Warnings/Notes:** This is set in the same canon divergence as _One For All_ (i.e. drabble #6), so it might be in your best interest to read that first. As such, slight alterations to characters may be present, so read at your own risk.

* * *

 

“There’s something bothering you,” Annie starts without preamble, dropping onto the branch and shaking its leaves as she settles into place, “but you won’t talk to me about it.”

Armin remembers liking this straightforwardness, once, and how Annie would never use twenty words when four would suffice. Now, with the hot-sharp memory of Mikasa’s anguished cry still ringing in his ears, he turns back to look down at his hands and ignores the way Annie’s eyes bore into him.

It’s not that he wants her to change, by any means. Annie is Annie and it had been his heart, not his mind, which had told him to rescue her despite all the risks. They could’ve gotten away without having ever touched her crystal, even if it would’ve taken Reiner and Bertholdt more convincing if he hadn’t approached them with Annie by his side, but Armin had always been a strategist and the task wouldn’t have been impossible. Annie was, at the end of the day, expendable; a bonus, if he would.

Except there is nothing good he can feel in the way she slips one cool hand over his own and squeezes. Except he can hear Eren’s hoarse screams as Reiner secures his body ( _hacks off his limbs,_ his mind whispers, but Armin does his best to ignore it), and Bertholdt is hardly any good at stealth when his stare has been raising goosebumps on his arms for the past few minutes. Except he knows that the other two titan shifters wouldn’t care a whit if he fell off this branch and was eaten by a titan, that Annie is the only reason why they haven’t asked him about anything yet, and…

“It’s nothing,” Armin finally says, several beats too late, and he’s known Annie long enough to know that, when he turns to her again, she’ll be narrowing her eyes at his blatant lie.

Ordinarily, this would be where Annie lapses into silence, determined to wrangle the answer from him without so much as lifting a finger. This time around…

“You’re just like Reiner.” Armin turns, then, but finds Annie’s narrowed eyes staring down at his hands as she murmurs, “Your mind is still on them.”

“It’s not,” Armin replies, well-worn patience seeping into his tone. “We have the co-ordinate, Zeke will be along to pick us up at any moment, we’ll be able to take a holiday—”

“And what does that change?” Annie’s hand drifts down his arm and tangles with the fingers of one limp hand. “Will it ever erase the pain in Mikasa’s eyes? The way Bertholdt almost died because your short captain suffered burns to try and hack him out? Or how about all those people who called your name, thinking you were dead?

“Your guilt will stay with you forever.” Annie’s smile is small but wry when Armin looks over, clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes, but her eyes stay sad as she murmurs, “All you can do is live with it.”

“I’m not guilty of _anything_ ,” Armin snaps, words like acid on his tongue. “I did what was right for our people, for _Marley_. My personal feelings have _nothing_ to do with this.”

“Then why,” Annie quietly asks, “are you crying?”

It’s only then that Armin notices the blurriness in his eyes and the wetness trickling down his cheeks. He swipes at them roughly, none of his usual timidity in the near-violent gesture, and Annie looks on as he breathes in and lets it all go with an abrupt _whoosh_.

“You haven’t talked to Eren since we’ve captured him,” Annie says, and Armin feels dread settling in the pit of his stomach at the studied casualness in her tone. “Did you know that he thinks I broke out by myself? He asked about Mikasa and—”

“Stop.” Armin’s eyes harden as he glares at Annie, ignoring the way Bertholdt twitches in his hiding spot, and spits out, “What did you tell him?”

“Me?” Annie tilts her head, exposing her pale, unmarked neck, and Armin clenches his jaw at the unconscious taunt as she continues with a thoughtful, “Nothing. I can’t say the same for Reiner and Bertholdt.”

“Then does he know that I’m—”

“No,” Annie says, “but it’s only a matter of time until he does.”

“And until that time comes,” Armin firmly utters, “he’ll be docile enough for us to transport, thinking that Mikasa and everyone else will come for him with my help.”

Annie stares at him, then. Takes in the rigid set of his jaw, the sheen of his eyes, the careless half-tail he’s pulled his hair into and the faint trembling beneath her fingertips. Armin knows that he is hardly intimidating, is fully aware of the open expressions he must now unlearn again, but she is silent when she draws her hand back and looks up at Reiner, coming down with Eren’s torso strapped behind him.

For a moment, she wavers, and then…

“At least you find me useful now.”

Armin watches as Annie rises to her feet, deploys her 3DMG and flies up to meet Reiner halfway. It’s not until Bertholdt’s gone up to join them, engaging in whispered conversations that cause eyes to flicker towards him every now and again, that Armin gets to his feet with a quiet sigh. When they avert their eyes as he looks back, he lets slip a muffled laugh.

“Do I?” he asks the leaves rustling around him, and says, “But what’s bad to the bad, anyway?”

The leaves don’t say anything useful in response, but Armin loosely clenches his hands into fists and smiles down at them anyway. When he leaps from the branch, harness dragging him along to where Annie and the others are, his hand still tingles with her cool, solid touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this drabble left you with more questions than answers, that was the general impression I was going for (so perhaps I should've used a title like 'one step forward, two steps back' instead). I ended up going along with the 'Armin is a titan shifter' theme because the idea intrigued me too much and the prompt happened to fit with the continuation I had in mind, so there's a little backstory for you to enjoy. Once again, because this divergence interests me a lot, I might return to it at a later stage... but it likely won't be anytime soon.
> 
> Also, it might be worthwhile noting that drabbles may not make the 2-3 day limit I've imposed on myself (as per the original challenge guidelines), mostly because assignment blocks and exams are a terrible, real thing. I'll do my best to upload within a week, though I won't make any guarantees in case I disappoint anyone, but don't expect too much until the end of June.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	8. Sensory Deprivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything I had was yours, but nothing you had was mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoilers:** ? (Up to and including chapter 34 of the manga / episode 25 of season one)  
>  **Genre(s):** (Slam?) Poetry; Angst  
>  **Prompt #:** 353 (A secret kept)
> 
> **Additional Warnings/Notes:** Because this is meant to be a collection of spoken pieces, audio links to each poem will be integrated when they've been recorded. Also, please forgive any OOCness; it's much harder for me to write in first-person (and with poetry, no less!) than in third-person prose.

* * *

 

_To the one who will always be in my heart  
(even if I never feel it again, you will always have it still)_

 

* * *

 

**[I. Look](https://soundcloud.com/shironix/8-1-look)**

I watched as they ran towards their mother  
Towards the danger  
Lurking through the walls, through the portal to death  
And I still remember  
My hand trembling when I reached out—  
_Mikasa! It’s over… the town… is finished…_  
_THE TITANS ARE GOING TO INVADE IN COUNTLESS NUMBERS—_  
And still they ran towards certain destruction  
In the opposite direction  
Ignoring the subjugation  
Of the titan’s presence over the nation  
Because they were brave.  
Because they could afford to be brave.

And I just watched them run because  
I was not brave enough.

Did you know  
That I wanted to be part of the Top 10  
So that I could get away from it all?  
Did you know  
That I saw you then  
Halfway draped across your seat and glaring  
When you said _don’t imagine you and I are anything alike_  
When all I saw was you saying _don’t imagine_  
_I will ever have anything to like about_ you _?_

It’s true that I could never measure up to you:  
The one who taught Eren how to win fights  
The one who went on equal footing with Mikasa  
The one who stuck with the Military Police  
The one who lived life far fuller than I—

And I just watched you from the sidelines because  
I was not good enough.

I could do nothing but watch you  
Walk away from Marco’s corpse  
Walk away from the Survey Corps  
Walk away from the 104th and  
Walk away from me  
Because you could.

Because you should  
And you would  
And all I could do was look  
As you left and never looked back.

**  
[II. Listen](https://soundcloud.com/shironix/8-2-listen)**

_Even as we speak, it’s very plausible  
That the Colossus Titan might tear down the wall._

Even as he spoke, it was very plausible  
That I never heard anything he said at all.

There was only a line before me  
Where the three  
I cared for were standing in a row  
Proud of themselves.  
Assured in themselves.  
Better in and of themselves  
While I stood at the back because I was simply  
Not proud or assured or better enough.

And Reiner spat all over my hair  
While Jean and Eren argued aloud  
But I couldn’t hear you at all as  
They swung their fists before Mikasa  
Hauled Eren away, leaving me to  
Stand and go after them, like always—

But I couldn’t hear you at all.

_I’d sooner die than become a burden!_  
It’s nothing but an empty declaration;  
A proclamation  
That is but pretty words from ugly lips  
Pretty thoughts from ugly dreams  
Because honestly?

I want to hear the birds singing  
As we let our legs swing  
Over the gently swaying fields.  
I want to know about a future  
Where there are no Titans, no sorrow,  
No pain and no tomorrow  
Filled with the certainty of death  
Or the nightmares that never leave us.

But all I heard was the walls breaking  
Our hope failing  
And an _I’ll be fine_ that even I couldn’t believe.

And all you heard were dying screams  
Because our comrades, our friends,  
Were killed because of  
You.

How despicable.  
How cruel.  
(And yet all I can say is _I still love you_ )

**  
[III. Smell](https://soundcloud.com/shironix/8-3-smell)**

_You’re weak like hell  
But you’ve definitely got guts—_

An insult and a compliment rolled into one  
Falling from your lips, like dust motes  
Disturbed by the passing of roughened feet  
Upon the wooden floor beneath us.

You watched as the funeral pyre burnt  
Flaring for our comrades-in-arms  
Ashes of friends that once were  
Wafting into our nostrils, acrid and  
Heavy with the losses, heavy with pain

And I… I took to the stand  
For the unending nightmare, talking  
Of a boy I once knew; defending  
His humanity because he was a being  
I thought I could trust, but you…

You were the same as he.  
You watched people die—  
You _caused_ people to die.

Fear, cloying and pungent  
Choked my breath but you  
Stood calm and quiet exuding  
Purpose and merit as though  
You were innocent of crimes  
Against our comrades, our friends,

I wish I could hate you,  
I really do.

But you breathed into my face and  
You let me live, twice, and  
You betrayed me.

I wish I could hate you,  
But I just…

**  
[IV. Taste](https://soundcloud.com/shironix/8-4-taste)**

Bitter bile burning  
Salt sadness seeping  
It was sour and bland  
Like the depths of my heart  
As it failed and dropped to the floor

And through my snot and hiccups I cried their names—  
_The aforementioned five… bravely fell_ —  
And through the haze of it all you stared  
With all the others, all staring as I broke  
From the slick of the titan’s saliva on me  
From the slide of cold hands on me  
From the slump of the burden placed on me  
And my tears fell, my bones locked up, my shoulders hunched  
Because I could not bear it.

I could not bear it at all.

Blood boiling, steam hissing,  
The titans fell before you and I  
Had gunpowder burning smoke onto me  
But all I could taste was sweet victory  
Pure adoration, quiet awe  
For you, who was calm.

For you, who could bear it all.

What would it be like to have your courage?  
Your strength?  
Your heart?

What would it be like to kiss your lips  
And feel your mouth against mine  
Your tongue around mine  
Your hands on mine—

Ah, I would leave the Survey Corps  
And fight my way to your side.  
I would travel through earth and hell  
If it meant you were by my side.

But then I found out, what you were.  
Found out that every word was a lie  
Every soldier that had died  
And the tears that I had cried  
Were for naught; that my love  
Was nothing but a curse  
That led me to killing  
You.

How despicable.  
How cruel.  
(If only you could say _I do love you_ ).

**  
[V. Touch](https://soundcloud.com/shironix/8-5-touch)**

The number of times you’ve looked my way  
The number of times you’ve said my name  
The number of times you’ve stood too close—  
I could count them all on one hand.

The number of times I’ve watched your back  
As you walked away, never to stay—  
The number of times I’ve said your name  
Half-aborted, all unnoticed, echoing in my head—  
The number of times I’ve been drawn near  
Because of you, because you’re _you_ —

Oh, how could I count  
The stars in the sky?  
How I wish I could  
Trace them all on your skin!

_Armin_  
_Good luck  
On your own—_

And I had really thought I’d failed  
Like Shadis had always said I would  
Too weak, not a soldier  
Just a brain much older  
Than my comrades and a heart  
Too fragile, a body too small.

And I had really thought I’d failed  
To deceive you, to lie  
When all I wanted to do was  
Take you away and—

If F stood for Failure  
For the times I had Fallen  
Then I would gladly bear the burden  
Of my sins upon my shoulders

And if F stood for Future  
Then I would Follow you Forever  
From the First to the last and beginning to end

But F stands for Feelings.  
F stands for Frustration.  
F stands for the Foundations  
Never stable, never made.

F stands for the Frown  
Etched onto your Face  
Which I can never remove  
And never replace.

Emptiness beneath my Fingertips  
And a cavity in my chest.

I guess I’ll never know  
What it Feels like  
To know you this way.

_  
“Sir, does the author ever know what happened to his lover?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Well… does she end up with another man? Can he still talk to her or, um, do anything with her?”_

_“…I don’t suppose the author ever sees her again. Nobody’s been able to guess who he’s talking about, not even the people who knew him.”_

_“And how do you know that, Sir?”_

_“I just do. Believe me, I just do.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And he clutches the crystal around his neck  
Pretending that it doesn’t leave him out of breath  
Because nobody can know, nobody will _ever_ know

He will carry it all to his grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poetry has always been incredibly personal and hard to shape for me, so if things seem like a rant or a little too raw then that might explain why. It might also be worth noting that the poems aren't linear and are more a collection of Armin's experiences, reshaped to give it the obligatory AruAni twist (though it's one-sided this time around, unfortunately), and that all non-quoted italicized blocks are directly drawn from the manga at various points. Hopefully, though, everything flows for you as it did for me, when I wrote and reworked it to suit Armin and the prompt better.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.
> 
> [ Updated on June 4, 2017 - audio tracks included ]


	9. Ouroboros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoilers:** ? (Up to and including chapter 34 of the manga / episode 25 of season one)  
>  **Genre(s):** Angst  
>  **Prompt #:** 454 (How much longer)
> 
> **Additional Warnings/Notes:** N/A

* * *

 

Armin tries to kiss her when they’re alone after dinner.

Annie knew it would lead to this someday; that after the lingering looks would come a confession, that whispers of love and sweet hand-holding would fall quickly on its heels. There’s other cadets who have it worse (Bertholdt’s stare is so heavy that her shoulders hunch with it, at times, and she’s seen enough hickeys on Hannah’s neck to know that something’s up) but she had thought Armin to be skittish. Slow, even, with the way he’d taken a year to move from pining to a stuttered, flushed admittance of emotion that she had mulled over for all of a minute before acknowledging.

The hand-holding had been fine, though. The whispering was a little ticklish on her ears, at times, but Annie had grown to… tolerate, perhaps, if the way she smiled every time Armin flushed afterwards could count as tolerance. She’d even taken to seeing how embarrassed he could get when she replied in kind, seeking out his hand on particularly cold days or letting her breath brush teasingly against his cheek when they had the opportunity to be close, but now…

“Mmph!” Armin protests, and Annie removes her hand with a faint frown on her lips.

There’s something raw in his wide eyes that doesn’t sit well with Annie, and her frown deepens a little when she turns away, surreptitiously wiping her hand on her pants. He doesn’t seem to catch it but the air between them is subdued, his movements mechanical as he rinses everything and hands it to her for drying. Something strange swoops through her when his fingers linger on hers with every plate and cup and utensil she’s given, but he doesn’t comment on it and neither does she.

It’s not until they’re done, wiping their hands on dry towels and grimacing at the wrinkles in their hands, that Armin pipes up with a hesitant, “Sorry.”

She wants to say, it’s not your fault. That in the moment she knew he was going to kiss her, something had risen up within her that was so unbidden, so _foreign_ that she might’ve let it slip had they done it. She wants to be her usual self and say exactly what’s on her mind, but…

“Anyone could’ve seen us,” Annie says instead, and walks away before she can see Armin’s face.  
 

 

It’s a good day to relax, Annie thinks, arms crossed and squashed between her head and a faded wall. Her hair is slightly damp from the morning’s exertions (3DMG training, followed by an hour of hand-to-hand with tough but manageable sparring partners) and it sticks to her forehead more than she’d like, but experience has taught her that it will flop back in her face once she moves it. Still, it doesn’t stop her from pondering if a clip would be worth the kinks in her hair when she huffs at it.

Her thoughts are almost entirely gone and her eyes are fluttering shut when a shadow falls over Annie, obscuring the sun from view and jolting her back to full alertness. It’s not until she’s thrown her arms in front of her and tensed all her muscles that she sees Armin backtracking, spluttering something apologetic as his eyes dart frantically around, but there’s still a tenseness to her shoulders when she lowers her hands and settles into position again.

Armin, for his part, doesn’t seem to pick up on her still-tensed muscles, if the way he slides down beside her is anything to go by. Annie finds her eyes sweeping over the fall of his hair, the flutter of his lashes as he blinks and the plaster bits that puff off the wall when he rests his head against the way, but finds herself distracted when she feels a hand resting gently on her knee.

The first thing she realizes is that he’s leaning in. The second is that Armin’s eyelashes are far longer than most people’s (not that she’s _seen_ anyone’s eyelashes up close), and the third is that he’s going for a kiss again. It’s not until his eyes fly open, startling blue almost drowning her in their depths, that she registers the way she’s pressing into the wall, back flattening and spine locked up from it all.

They stare into each other’s eyes, then. The sun’s heat sinks into Annie’s skin, searing in a way that she knows will leave burns later, but Armin’s hair is falling around her face and all she can see is gold and blue. Cornfields beneath an endless sky, the peaceful life she could never have, and…

“I… uh…” Armin clears his throat and scrambles back, almost smashing his head against the wall, before he squeaks out, “T-There was something on your face!”

Annie blinks and lets her eyes sweep over the flush choking his face, but manages to utter, “Is it gone now?”

For a moment, there is only silence, and then, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s gone now.”

“That’s good,” Annie murmurs, and rises fluidly to her feet.

This time, when she walks away, there’s a light frown on Armin’s face, but Annie doesn’t ( _won’t_ ) think about it and soon it fades, like every other insignificant detail in her life.  
 

 

There’s blood on her hands that she can never wash off and failure that she can never erase, sinking so deep into her bones that Annie’s afraid it’ll stick with her forever. Death drapes itself over her with a finality she cannot shake off and she wakes each night to shallow breaths and not enough air in her lungs. How does anyone live when the Reaper is forever on the edge of their vision, beckoning them to another world?

_They don’t,_ a snide part of her mind sneers, and Annie resigns herself to wandering the streets again.

Precious few stars are visible in the night sky when she slips out, hood pulled low over her forehead, but looking up only brings unwanted memories back. Huffing quietly to herself, Annie ducks through Stohess’ nooks and crannies, studiously avoiding the artificial glare of streetlamps and those held by the night guard. It’s not hard to avoid anyone at this time, really, not when the guard are complacent in their gossiping and (what they think is) sneaky drinking, but that doesn’t stop her walking head-first into someone else.

“Watch where you’re going!” Annie hisses, but stops when blond locks tumble from beneath the other person’s hood.

There’s defined bags beneath his eyes and a sunken look that only deepens with the absence of light. Annie can’t remember much of the eager, smiling boy she’d left behind in Trost, but this…

“Armin?” Annie whispers, and Armin offers a watery smile in response.

She chalks it up to weakness, later. The Military Police is nothing like everyone back in Trost, Hitch’s snideness and Marlowe’s insufferable self-righteousness grating on her with every second of every day, and days stretch between the moments when she opens her mouth to speak. There is nobody to sit with, nobody to push away or pull closer, nobody to do anything _at all_ and Armin is just there.

Armin is just there, within reach and so tangible, so _warm_ and—

He turns his head away.

“Won’t the Military Police catch you if you’re out of bed?” There’s something funny in his voice but it’s too dark to see his face properly, so all Annie gets is Armin’s quavering voice and nothing more. Still, it doesn’t stop her from narrowing her eyes when he takes a step back and tacks on a hurried, “I just—it would be a bad thing if they caught you, you know?”

Annie’s spent three years with Armin, two of which were filled with detailed observations, but this is nothing she can put her finger on. Stepping out of the light is out of the question and leaning closer is not a risk she’ll take again, but Armin is barely an arm’s length away and—

“Okay, I’ll go,” Annie says, and pretends her voice doesn’t grate on her ears as he nods and turns away.

He never turns back to see the way she stares after him, brows scrunched and lips drawn flat.  
 

 

_She watches him betray her with a smile and turn away with teary eyes, keep his back to her when she surrenders to the inevitable and come back despite it all. She watches him press his lips to the crystal above her lips, when it’s over, sobbing words she cannot hear and getting snot all over her casing._

_She watches him rant and rage, bare his soul, tear it to shreds and lose it all afterwards but—_

_Their first kiss, in the end, is no kiss at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 1.5k worth of angsting over first kisses happened because I couldn't bring myself to angst over something more explicit and less for general consumption than this. Perhaps I'll get to something more physical between them in later drabbles... but for now, have some angst over lip-locking. Kudos to anyone who picked up on the lingering undertones of my feelings for AruAni and who can correctly diagnose my insecurities in here; I don't know how obvious it is but there were quite a few as I was writing.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


	10. Vanishing Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And he watches as the sands of time slip through his fingers once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Spoilers:** Yes (up to and including Chapter 90 of the manga)  
>  **Genre(s):** Character Study; Angst  
>  **Prompt #:** 343 (No questions asked)
> 
> **Additional Warnings/Notes:** N/A

* * *

 

The waves lap at his toes as Armin crouches in the sand, dust- and sweat-streaked hair ruffling gently in the ocean breeze. His thighs groan at the added pressure, unaccustomed to so much exertion after hours on horseback, but there’s a nervous energy buzzing away in his fingertips. It shows in the way he fumbles with the shell, almost dropping it when a bit of the spray gets into his mouth, but…

Connie and Sasha are splashing around, carefree in a way they never were once they joined the Survey Corps. Hange is going absolutely _wild_ at the sight, ignoring Levi’s blunt concern in favour of exclaiming over the things they can see. Eren stands stock-still with his feet planted shoulder-width apart, staring out into the horizon, and there is a shell nestled in Armin’s hands.

He brings it to his ear and closes his eyes, for a moment. Takes in the distant roar echoing in the ocean, the way his heart clenches when he lets the shell nestle back in his hands, and the way his eyes prick when Mikasa squeals upon contact with the water.

_This is it_ , Armin thinks, and cradles the shell closer.

Everything he read in those books were true, from the saltiness of the sea to its vast expansiveness. Armin can’t fathom how far it might stretch for, can’t even _begin_ to imagine how long it’d take to traverse it all, but this is as good a place to stop exploring as any. Across the ocean is a world beyond anything he might ever imagine, sand and ice as far as the eye can see.

Across the ocean is the land where Annie came from, and that’s enough to make tears spill down his cheeks.

This moment should be perfect. Armin had dreamt about the ocean years before he’d ever told Eren about it, longed to see its unfathomable waters and taste the salt spray on his lips, but there’s a hollow in his heart and his best friend turns to him with tears in his eyes.

Where is the victory, the satisfaction? After all his dreams were meant to come true, what next?

Levi calls them out of the water in due time, citing the godawful stench and sting of brine (“Because sweat and horse isn’t disgusting enough for you lot, is it?”), but Armin dawdles for as long as he dares. Out there had once been discovery, adventure, _escape_ but now… what was left to humanity; to Paradis?

There’s an itch beneath his skin and a longing in his bones, one that Armin can’t explain away with logic or reason. He wants to turn around and walk until he’s forced to wade, until he’d be at the mercy of salt and water and the fathomless unknown if he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. He wants to reach for a spectre confined in unbreakable crystal, take it by the hand and point out there.

_It’s so beautiful,_ he’d say to her. _You’re so blessed, knowing that sights like this exist._

He knows it now, of course, but…

When they set off for their temporary camp, made partway between the ocean and Shiganshina, the shell watches them from its lonely post on the beach. By the time Armin turns back to take one last look at it, its creamy exterior is barely distinguishable from the sand piling in and around and atop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this fit the prompt? Is there a deeper meaning to the shell? Why are there so many questions in a prompt that specifically demands no questions?? The words flowed out of my hands before I could hope to recall them so if it seems disjointed or like a stream of consciousness, it's because I just wrote whatever happened to be at the forefront of my mind. Despite my best attempts, the AruAni was more implicit than explicit, so you may have to squint to see anything significant.
> 
> For a list of upcoming additions to the drabble collection and other additional information about it, please click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/snk14drabbles). Alternately, click [here](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles) to check out my other works, or visit my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) to check out what else I'm into.


End file.
